


Love Language

by ThePause



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-12-01 19:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20873252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePause/pseuds/ThePause
Summary: Set in "Singles Week." David grapples with Patrick's declaration of love.Quote:Without any pretense or preamble, he’d just said it, out loud, in the middle of the store in broad daylight. He’d put his hands on David’s arms and looked at him with that sincere expression he always got when he knew he was about to blow David’s mind. Then he said it, I love you, followed by a long, sleepy blink that made David want to light himself on fire.





	1. Love Language

David hadn’t planned for this, for any of it. The only thought in his head had been sweet talking Patrick into taking the box of dog sweaters over to Ted’s so he wouldn’t have to do it. The whole thing with Alexis telling Ted she loved him had scrambled his brain. Not just because of what she’d said, but because she’d meant it. Alexis loved Ted. And had told him so. The world, it seemed, was spinning backwards at a rapid velocity. Which is why it was so important for David to convince Patrick to take the box to Ted’s. David had no intention of getting involved in the drama. Other drama, sure. Drama was David’s love language. But this particular Alexis + Ted drama felt too heavy, too real, too laden with inevitability.

Instead of saying yes, I’ll take the box for you, Patrick told David he loved him. _Loved_ him. Without any pretense or preamble, he’d just said it, out loud, in the middle of the store in broad daylight. He’d put his hands on David’s arms and looked at him with that sincere expression he always got when he knew he was about to blow David’s mind. Then he said it, _I love you_, followed by a long, sleepy blink that made David want to light himself on fire.

It was so Patrick, honestly. He was always doing that, saying exactly what was in his head whenever he damn well pleased. David was constantly mentally running to catch up to Patrick’s confidence, his willingness to just feel things. So much. If Patrick was feeling tender, he’d say something tender. If he was feeling saucy, he’d say something saucy. David still wasn’t used to being with someone who wasn’t playing a game, planning their next move, who was sincerely in it because he wanted to be in it. David kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did. Patrick was, maddeningly, exactly who he said he was.

And it wasn’t that David didn’t feel things. He felt everything. All the time. David was acutely aware of every swirl of emotion that snaked its way through his mind and body at all times. He was well-versed in awkwardness and loneliness and an inner tension that never seemed to unwind. Feelings weren’t the issue. It was the talking about the feelings that tripped him up. David had a lot of words for a lot of things. He could talk forever about fashion or skincare products or stories about Alexis or his past sexual escapades. Talking, he was good at. But feelings, love, those words got jammed up in his throat, never able to make their way out.

Then there was Patrick, always nudging, declaring, looking him in the eye and singing to him in front of half the town. Telling him he was simply the best. It made David nervous. It made his skin burn hot, like Patrick had found his hidden heart’s zipper and was slowly, carefully, pulling it open, exposing him to the brightest light he’d ever seen. Patrick was that light, beaming at him from behind his teasing affection that was really doting. His_ I love you._

So, David took the box to Ted’s, stumbling on the way there, his body too full of Patrick and those three simple words now weighing him down like a too-warm sweater in the summer sun. He hadn’t said it back, I_ love you_, too stunned to process if he even wanted to say it. If he even could. David wasn’t the sort of person who just flung _I love you_ at whomever or whatever. And while it was true that Patrick wasn’t whomever or whatever, the words stayed stuffed down, hidden, unpracticed and unknown.

“You’re my Mariah Carey,” Patrick had said, like it was an easy thing to say. Like it would be an easy thing for David to hear. It had keyed David all the way up, whipped his internal tornado into a frenzy. David knew that Patrick knew what those words would do to him. What they meant. He’d grinned like an ass when he said it. That’s why David was so overwhelmed, because Patrick was the kind of person who took the time to know David, to know his buttons and his secrets, and use them to pull David closer, drawing him in inch by inch.

When David got to Ted’s he set the box of dog sweaters on the counter, eager to make a stealthy getaway. But Ted had popped up from behind the reception desk, had given David an awkward hug, had tearfully admitted to Alexis’s confession. David wasn’t sure what to do, what to say, what his place was in all of it. He was still neck-deep in Patrick’s love confession. He didn’t have any room for anyone else’s complicated feelings.

But he’d stayed. He’d listened. He’d offered advice that, quite frankly, surprised him. And as he talked Ted off the ledge, something inside David began to untangle. Telling Ted about how much Alexis had grown and changed opened a locked door inside of David. Because everything he was saying about Alexis was true for him, too. Since moving to Schitt’s Creek, since opening the store, since meeting Patrick, he’d changed. Grown. Become all the way himself.

It hit him like a down-filled pillow to the face. Once he knew it was true, he knew it was true. It was undeniable. It wasn’t just a feeling it was part of his DNA. Cut him and he’d bleed this truth. Try to tamp it down, it’d spring back up, spilling over and out and into. David couldn’t wait one more minute to be in it, live in it, cement it into being. He had to tell Patrick.

He hurried back to the store, a new lightness in his limbs. He was nearly skipping he was so eager to get there, to begin. Once he knew for certain where he wanted to be, he couldn’t get there fast enough.

When he opened the door to the store, Patrick was there, talking some nonsense about massage oils and the sex lives of single people. David surged forward, kissed him, hard, wrapped his arms around Patrick, poured everything he had into it. When he pulled back, the words he’d barely rehearsed came spilling out, unable to stay hidden one more second.

_I love you._

Patrick’s face broke open into an honest to God sunbeam. And David knew, in that moment, he’d found it. _It._ That elusive thing he’d always hoped to discover was standing in front of him, loving him back. David felt brand new. He was a person who said _I love you_.

Then there was the tea, the damn fucking tea. David knew Patrick was teasing, but he wanted perfection. He hurried across the street to the café and stumbled into what turned out to be a love-fest pile-on. Ted was there, telling Alexis he was all in. It was as if the town had been bombed by Cupid himself, its residents powerless against his arrows.

David got the tea and returned to Patrick, his love.

“Thank you, David,” Patrick said, and David knew he didn’t just mean the tea.

“Is it perfect now?”

A beat. A smile.

“I’d say it’s been perfect for a while.”

The bell chimed as more customers came in. David wanted to shoo them away, pull Patrick into the back room and tell him with his hands, his lips, his body just how much he meant I love you, but he’d have to wait.

Once the store officially closed for business hours, they’d hosted a wine tasting for the singles. It was a wild success, men and women flirting and lingering long after the event’s posted end time. Eventually, finally, David and Patrick had to politely ask them to leave. It was time to go.

“Come home with me?” Patrick asked, locking the door to the store. “I know it’s late and we’re both exhausted, but Ray’s out for the night. We could…be alone.”

Patrick looked so hopeful it nearly broke David’s heart.

“Yes,” he said.

By the time they got to Ray’s, exhaustion had well and truly set in for them both. But David wasn’t done with Patrick, not by a long shot.

They trudged up the stairs to Patrick’s room, David’s hand on Patrick’s hip, Patrick’s hand on David’s. Wordlessly, they stripped down to their boxer briefs, David’s black and Patrick’s blue and white striped, and climbed into bed just to hold each other, hold on to each other. No matter the circumstance, they’d always been able to connect from touch, be it a hand on a shoulder at the store, a foot sliding against a calf in a booth at the café, or the many skin on skin touches they’d shared in Patrick’s bed.

They were on their sides, facing each, hands and fingertips tracing along favorite paths. David reached up to cradle Patrick’s face. “I love you.”

It came out easier the second time. Patrick leaned forward to kiss him, the connection charged with something new and solid and wildly intimate. David pulled away, more words spilling out of him.

“I just need you to know that I mean it, that I love you.”

Patrick’s hands were on David’s neck and chest, his eyes wide. “I know, David.”

“But it’s easy for you, saying things. You know it’s not easy for me and you’ve never pushed, which I’ve appreciated, but I need you to know that I mean it. It’s real. I’m in love with you.” He paused and they looked at each other, watching, soaking it in. “Can I…will you let me tell you? Can I tell you?”

It was hot under the sheet and Patrick kicked it off. He nodded, moving his body back a fraction of an inch, giving David some room. David pulled him back, pulled him in. He kissed him. Kissing Patrick was like kissing a promise, always full of hope and emotion and what David now knew was love.

“I love you,” David said. “And not just this, you and me, but you. I love _you_, Patrick. I love the man you are, your unwavering commitment, your head for business, the annoying way you’re so hyper capable all of the time.”

Patrick laughed, a low, throaty chuckle that came out sort of shy and embarrassed.

“Your laugh, I love that, too,” David said. “I love your dry humor and the way you won’t let me get away with anything and the way you’re always shoving your hands into the front pockets of your jeans and how well you know yourself. That day, do you remember? You came into my store, when it was still mine, and just…told me you were going to work there, that you were going to get the money and you were going to work with me.”

Patrick nodded and moved his hand down and around to stroke David’s back.

“You were just so self-assured, so cocky,” David said. “I didn’t know whether to throw you out or bend you over the counter and have my way with you.” David kissed him then, again, a lot. “And your body,” David said, smoothing a hand down Patrick’s side and reaching around to grab his ass. It brought their hips together, their half-hard cocks sliding against each other. It nearly derailed David’s speech, but he kept going, a little more breathless than before. “I love your body, how strong you are and masculine. It’s like you don’t even know how sexy you are, which makes you that much sexier. I love watching you and touching you. I love the way you move, the way you hold me, the way you wrap yourself around me.” Patrick let a low moan as their hips slid together again. “When we’re together,” David said, his eyes closed, the moment racing forward, “the way you touch me, it makes me feel so seen and so safe.” Their hips stilled and David opened his eyes, looking at Patrick with watery eyes. “I’ve never…you make me feel safe, Patrick. I love you because I’m safe with you.”

Patrick’s bottom lip trembled.

“I love you, Patrick,” David said, “and I’ve never been able to say that to anyone else because there’s never been anyone else. I think…I feel like some part of me came alive when I met you. And every day with you has been like unwrapping a gift I didn’t ask for but wanted so, so much. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and…I wanted to say it. I wanted you to know.”

Tears slipped out of David’s eyes as he spoke, the moment too real and just right. He wasn’t nervous like he thought he might be, didn’t trip over his words. Telling Patrick how much he loved him was the easiest thing in the world.

“Thank you, David, for all of the wonderful things you just said.” Patrick’s wet eyes sparkled, calling back to David’s words earlier that day. He pulled their bodies back together, the simmering heat between them burning hotter. “I am completely and utterly in love with you.”

Their bodies took over, the need growing urgent between them. Sex with Patrick had always been great, new, like a discovery. Now it held them together, the pressing of their hips and chests and thighs saying without words, _I love you, I love you, I love you._


	2. Love Language - Patrick's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lovely commenter suggested I write this same story from Patrick's POV. So I did!

Patrick had been waiting for David for almost an hour, which wasn’t unusual. He opened the store alone most days, David strolling in at what he deemed a more desirable hour, despite the store’s consistent hours of operation. But it was Singles Week and it was busy. Patrick needed the help.

He saw David coming around the corner, a huge box in his hands, his leather bag dangling from his wrist. He looked keyed up and irritated. Patrick couldn’t get enough of this version of David, all put out and put upon. He loved ribbing him about his overblown frustrations, loved the look on David’s face when he wouldn’t give in to whatever whim David had cooked up for that day. It was their secret dance, Patrick needling David about surface ridiculous things and David bending over backwards to make them more ridiculous, like when Patrick moved the breath mints and David had an apocalyptic meltdown. It was fun and frivolous. It was foreplay.

David struggled with the box as he came through the door with an exasperated grunt. He looked stunning in a black sweater with a faint outline of wings on the shoulders and black pants with the little skirt thing David loved. Patrick loved it too, if he was honest. Patrick never quite got used to the sheer magnitude of David’s physical presence. Looking at him was like looking straight into a spotlight, all heat and burning and brightness. David had an indefinable beauty and Patrick was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life.

He lit into David immediately, making a joke about David’s struggle with the box looking effortless, which only made David’s eyebrows shoot higher than they already were. David’s face was its own personality, every complicated layer of feeling simultaneously on vivid display. Patrick’s stomach swooped with want.

David tried to sweet talk him into taking the box to Ted’s, saying he was too distressed to do it himself. He was spinning out about Alexis telling Ted she loved him, like it somehow was an infringement on David’s sanity that Alexis was working out her own drama. Truth was, Patrick would have enjoyed the walk, but no way was he going to give in. It was too fun to see David stammer and stutter, outraged that his demands weren’t being met.

He loved that about David, loved his hyper-reactions, loved the way he threw his hands into the air and punctuated every word with a wild flourish, loved the way his mouth dropped open in horror just because Patrick wouldn’t carry a box for him. He loved this secret love language between them, their way of flirting, their way of saying later, I’m going to absolutely ruin you and you’re going to love it. God, he was totally in love with this man.

Wait.

Oh.

He loved him. He _loved_ David. He was in love with him! Which, yes, yeah, it made perfect sense. It was so obvious, so simple. David made him feel right, completed his sentence in an everyday way. David was everything he’d never known he wanted. So, yeah, yes, he loved David. Of course.

He loved David. He was_ in love with him_.

He’d probably known it for a long time, known it since David had sashayed into Ray’s in need of a license for a business with no name. But there, in that moment, with David flailing over a stupid box full of dog sweaters, Patrick knew it for real. So, he told him. _I love you_. 

The look on David’s face could make history. He was stunned (almost) silent. Patrick worried he’d made a mistake, pushed too fast, too soon. But it had to be okay, would be okay, because he loved David Rose.

David reacted immediately as only David could, all fire and emotion, spouting off about how he’d never said that to anyone, which Patrick knew. He’d known. Patrick assured him he didn’t have to say it back, and he meant it. It would be some kind of moment if David did say it, but Patrick knew it took David time to work out his feelings, time to bring them to the surface in a definable way. He could wait. He’d wait for David Rose until the end of time.

The look on David’s face, the way he was full-tilt babbling, only confirmed for Patrick that he was crazy, stupid in love with this ridiculous and wonderful man.

Patrick decided to go all the way in. “You’re my Mariah Carey.”

David lurched back like he’d just been bonked on the head by a fairy godmother’s wand, a shower of glitter raining down over them both. The declaration, which was 100% true, landed exactly how Patrick had hoped.

David started to say something, something that almost sounded like the start of _I love you_, but pulled back. Patrick knew it was a lot, everything he’d just said. He changed the subject, asked David to pick him up a tea, giving David room to breathe, room to absorb the heavy things they’d just shared stuffed between teasing smiles and genuine joy.

Patrick had been in love before, sort of. Almost. With Rachel it was a different kind of love, a love of obligation. A love wrapped up in history and expectations. Still, he’d told her, often, said the words. But saying them now, to David, a man who still surprised him every single day with his singular David-ness, felt like splashing in a mountainside waterfall. Because it wasn’t obligation, it wasn’t the thing he was supposed to say. No, he probably shouldn’t have said it at all. But he was in love with the human firework show that was David Rose. The rules no longer applied.

David was gone to Ted’s for a really long time and Patrick worried David was hiding out, that he’d scared him. Maybe it was too soon to tell David how he felt. Maybe he should have kept it to himself for a while, let the feeling roll around inside before letting it out. He’d probably have to do some damage control, have to carefully peel David’s fingertips off the ledge David loved to leap onto. Patrick had hoped he wouldn’t have to do that as much since they’d gotten back together after the barbeque disaster. Since then, they’d been connected on a deeper level. David had moved differently around him, had looked at him differently. But then Patrick had to go and tell him he loved him, like a dopey cartoon character with hearts shooting out of his eyes.

Patrick was close to calling the vet’s office to see if David had even made it over there when David came barging through the door. Patrick started in on him right away, talking about David’s penchant for understanding the sex lives of singles, hoping to take the edge off from their earlier conversation, hoping to bring things back down to earth. But David kissed him.

It was different, that kiss, like David was trying to give him something, transfer something, become something. When he pulled away, Patrick was stunned, his heart thrumming inside his chest like a too-wound metronome. He thought he should say something, but David beat him to the punch.

_I love you_.

And oh, God, this was it. David, gorgeous, luminous, larger-than-life David, just made Patrick’s entire life. It wasn’t so long ago he didn’t even totally know he was attracted to men and now here he was, completely in love with this beautiful man. His match. His compliment. He’d never envisioned himself with someone as effervescent as David, but now he couldn’t imagine life without David’s whimsy, his flair, his secret smiles and loud negativity that was really just a mask for how much he deeply cared about every single thing.

Patrick could see it in David’s eyes, the moment so big it was teetering on too much. He offered him some relief.

“If only I had a nice cup of tea.”

He could feel David’s relief, even as he swirled out of the store talking about making things perfect. But they were perfect. They had been. Patrick thought that maybe, just maybe, they always would be.

The rest of the day felt like a test, like some joke from the universe to see how long they could last before ripping each other’s clothes off and saying I love you in a different way. David kept looking at him, smiling Patrick’s favorite half crooked smile that was more smirk than smile, finding ways to touch him and be close to him. That was David’s part in their special dance. Patrick teased and joked and coerced while David touched and moved and, to be frank, eye-fucked him from across the store.

By the time they’d finally said goodnight to the last customer, after the Singles Week wine tasting they’d hosted (David’s idea and a great one), they were both exhausted. But Patrick wasn’t ready to say goodnight. They’d said so much, but there was still so much to say. He wanted to talk David through it, make sure he was okay with this next step, get his hands on David’s body.

“Come home with me?” Patrick asked, locking the door to the store. “I know it’s late and we’re both exhausted, but Ray’s out for the night. We could…be alone.”

David had pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile. He’d said yes.

When they got to Ray’s, they immediately went to Patrick’s room. David’s hand was on his hip as they climbed the stairs, steady and sure. Once inside, they’d quietly stripped down to their boxers and climbed into bed. Patrick knew they needed to talk but first he just wanted to hold David, press into him, be. He loved that David was so tactile, always touching Patrick’s shoulders or his hips, brushing their hands together. But these touches, when they were alone, skin on skin, righted him. Patrick thought about it all the time, too much maybe, about David’s body and how it moved against his, how they fit together, a physical manifestation of their shared connection.

He turned on his side and David did, too.

“I love you,” David said, reaching up to cradle Patrick’s face in his hands. Patrick leaned in to kiss him and felt something new there, something solid. Private. Like the words they’d shared had opened them both a little wider, letting more of the other one in. “I just need you to know that I mean it,” David said, “that I love you.”

Patrick still couldn’t believe it, that they’d gotten this far. He knew David wore mental armor every day, shielding his tender heart from a world who’d hurt him so many times before. Each time he’d let Patrick in, let him see David’s soft interior, his vulnerable and true self, Patrick had considered it an honor. He knew David was sharing something precious and he intended to keep it safe.

He ran his fingers across David’s chest, wrapped a hand softly around his neck. “I know, David.” He wanted to give David an assurance, they what they were saying to each other was true. It was real. He wanted David to be able to relax in it, trust it.

But David wasn’t done talking. He could see it in David’s eyes, this was one of those important moments. He kicked the sheet off of them and moved a fraction of an inch away, trying to give David some space. David pulled him back in, kissed him like he was saying _I love you_ again for the first time.

And then, fuck, then. David let go. He smiled and touched and told Patrick all of the reasons he was well and truly in love with him. Specific things, special things, things Patrick hadn’t realized David had noticed. He talked about who Patrick was as a person, as a man. He talked about their connection, how it had happened early on. While David was talking, their bodies drew together like magnets, heat growing between them. David talked about Patrick’s body, told Patrick he was sexy, talked about how he made David feel seen and safe.

It was those last words that broke him, his bottom lip trembling. Because David was such a wild, precious thing. Patrick only ever wanted to handle him with care, protect his heart, show him how worthy he was of being loved. And here he was, David, doing that very same thing for Patrick, making him feel seen and safe. Patrick had never seen David laid so bare, never seen him look so beautiful.

“Thank you, David, for all the wonderful things you just said.” It was an attempt at being lighthearted, but he meant it, too. He’d never be able to thank David enough for every moment, every touch, every hard-won word. Patrick pulled David closer, pulled their bodies together, the simmering heat between them burning hotter. “I am completely and utterly in love with you.”

Their bodies took over, the need growing urgent between them. Patrick was drowning in it, drowning in the feeling of David over him and in him, whispering _I love you, I love you, I love you_.


End file.
